


Turning Saints Into The Sea

by tiredtigress



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gotham (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it, M/M, Pre-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska, Soft Jeremiah Valeska
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23279587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredtigress/pseuds/tiredtigress
Summary: Set after the events of 4x18, but Jeremiah hasn't been sprayed (yet) due to Ecco's interventions.Jeremiah and Bruce are getting along really well and work together on their newest project.Jeremiah has a little crush, Ecco is jealous, Jim is suspicious and Jerome (even though he's already dead) is still a psychopath -and Bruce... Bruce is just straight up confused.
Relationships: Ecco/Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 29
Kudos: 108





	1. A Crush

If someone had told him a couple of weeks ago, that he would be looking forward to working side by side with _Jerome Valeska's twin brother_ , he'd laughed. 

But much to his surprise, they really got along very well and Bruce had to admit to himself, that he was, indeed, looking forward to every single visit to Jeremiah’s bunker. 

The guy was refreshingly different than the other guys his age, (oh well, he might be a little older, but he never brought himself to ask his exact age - maybe he’d try today) that he'd met before.

He was well-spoken, quiet and polite - and it was also a bonus that he had a nice face, for Bruce’s liking. 

Bruce loved their conversations in between their work, loved how they could talk about every imaginable topic and even shared their opinions about most of them. 

Jeremiah seemed to understand his whole _mind_ , which was a rather rare thing to occur. It was almost like they've known each other for much longer than a couple of weeks.

He’d fought with Selina the day before, her being her usual self, as always running away from anything that could indicate that she had, you know, an actual heart. 

He’d asked her out but she didn’t even show up, just to appear in his living room four hours later, when Bruce had downed three glasses of whiskey and planned on going to bed. 

She’d asked if he wanted to go for a midnight stroll through the neighborhood but he’d declined and told her that he was planning on meeting up with Jeremiah to discuss their newest project early the next morning. 

Selina had acted surprisingly jealous, accusing him of neglecting her, mocking him for his „poor choice of friends“ - „Oh wow Bruce, first your scumbag rich asshole friends and now this loser nerd kid that spent his whole life in a bunker? Nice to hear that they all might be more important to you than me!“, she’d hissed before she was out of the window again.

He’d asked her before, what was more important to her than him, for missing their date, and she’d answered with a simple „Work, Bruce. Something you still don’t know shit about. Some people actually have to work to get money to survive.“

So yeah, he was rather glad for being able to spend the whole next day with Jeremiah, to work on their newest project and to have the occasional chat.

Naturally, he’d told Jeremiah about Selina before. He’d told him the long story of how they met and how much of a bumpy ride their relationship has been. He’d also told him about the few kisses they’d shared and how the butterflies in his stomach had sometimes grown teeth, slicing up his insides, when Selina had rejected him again and made him feel like she didn’t care half as much about him as he did about her.

Jeremiah had looked at him with his calm green eyes that sometimes reminded him of a forest:

Quiet, secretive and calm, with a hint of a wilderness behind it. 

Bruce wanted to get lost in those eyes more than often. He’d never admit it, though.

Selina’s eyes were green too, but they were different. Her green was flashy, bright and almost reminded him of a toxin, dangerous and wild, almost cat-like. He loved it nevertheless. 

When Bruce had told Jeremiah about Selina rejecting him, playing with him, something in his eyes had changed. The wilderness behind the dark green had become more prominent, something dark underneath waiting to break out. Just for a moment, though. 

Jeremiah had looked away, had fidgeted with his pen and squinted his eyes, a nervous tick he seemed to have when he was uncomfortable with something. Then he got up from his chair to pour himself another glass of whiskey.

Bruce didn’t quite drink as much as he did back in his party days, but he enjoyed the occasional drink with Jeremiah, especially when it got late and they’d finished working, just to sit around and talk a little longer. He liked how the whiskey made Jeremiah more talkative than he usually was, made him come out of his shell and how his cheeks flushed a little, usually after his third glass.

When he got close enough, Bruce could make out freckles around his nose, which was impressive, given the fact that the guy never really left his bunker.

He liked how Jeremiah sometimes scooted closer to him, their knees almost touching, with his forest tinted eyes - though a bit glassy now - always trained on him.

Bruce didn’t like the way Ecco looked at him.

It was clear that she didn’t like the way her boss and him were getting along, how they just seemed to _click_ and how much Jeremiah seemed to enjoy his company. 

She never really said a word but her glances towards Bruce were icy. 

Jeremiah didn’t even seem to notice, though.

She’d always eye him from around the corner and when she’d ask if everything was alright or if they needed anything, she purposely only looked at Jeremiah, but when Bruce was on his own in Jeremiah’s bunker, for example, when Ecco had to let him in, she’d eye him like a hawk, keeping track of every single step he took. 

Bruce always wondered what it was, because there was clearly _something_ between Ecco and Jeremiah, something unspoken and really loving on her side, which explained her unconditional loyalty and devotion, and something else on his side. 

Something captivating, which made her give up basically her entire life to being his personal assistant somewhere far away from civilization.

Sometimes, he’d also wonder if they’ve ever been intimate with each other, because, naturally, it gets lonely sometimes in a bunker and they were both, as far as Bruce was concerned, still human.

Oddly, he didn’t like the thought of them being intimate. Not at all.

He’d also never seen them fight, which was the reason why Bruce was surprised to catch them in such an unfamiliar situation. 

Ecco had let him in quickly, without her usual side glances and Jeremiah already rushed towards them while they were making their way through the maze towards their working room.

The young engineer seemed furious, his usually slicked back hair stuck up from the back of his head in a rather adorable way - why do we care about his hair out of a sudden, Bruce? - and his tie was undone. His flushed face and neck stood out in contrast to his pale skin tone, almost like it did when he’d had a little too much to drink.

„I’ll be taking over from here, thank you very much, Ecco, I can let him in on my own from now on - I really do not need a personal assistant who doesn’t know what boundaries are“, he snapped at her and gestured at her to get out of his way. 

Bruce had never seen him like that and wondered what the reason for their fight could possibly have been.

Ecco, on her behalf, seemed just as angry as him as she did as she was told, but not without shouting a last „you’ll regret what you’re saying to me once you fell into his trap, remember how I’ve warned you“, before leaving them alone, Jeremiah still shaking with anger and Bruce frowning in confusion. 

He didn’t bother asking, though, not wanting to push the redhead any further. Also, this was none of his business. 

They didn’t talk as much as they usually did during their time together, well at least, until the afternoon rolled around. They’d gotten snacks from Jeremiah’s cabinet and when Jeremiah opened the whiskey, Bruce was actually glad because it meant that they were going to have a little break. 

What he didn’t expect was Jeremiah pouring himself, only himself, a shot, downing it, then pouring himself another shot, also downing it and repeating the action a for third time.

Then he took a deep breath, took a step towards Bruce, then another step, without looking at him directly. Suddenly, he leaned in and pressed his lips onto Bruce’s.

It only lasted for a quick moment, just a couple of seconds that the world had seemed to stop.

Jeremiah’s lips moving against his were clumsy and wet from the hint of whiskey that still lingered on them, and, much to the billionaire’s surprise, unbelievably soft.

He didn’t really know what to expect of kissing a boy - even though he had to admit, that he’d thought about what it would be like to kiss a boy, especially Jeremiah, before, just hypothetically, of course - but he certainly didn’t expect it to be like this.

Before Bruce could kiss back or even comprehend what was going on, Jeremiah’s lips were gone.

When he looked up, the engineer looked like a spooked animal, still not meeting his gaze, slowly taking steps back as the seconds pressed on. 

Then Bruce spoke. 

„Wow, I didn’t really expect this“, he tried lamely, taking a step in his friend’s direction.

Jeremiah seemed to focus on some, out of a sudden, really interesting spot on his right shoe when he replied with a stuttering: „I.. I am really sorry. This was very unprofessional of me and I understand why you wouldn’t wanna work with me anymore. I - I really hope you don’t hate me now, I just wanna..“ 

Bruce interrupted him by suddenly grabbing the engineer’s shoulders, not really knowing where the sudden bravery was coming from. 

„... uhm, it’s fine, it just.. really took me by surprise, I guess?“, he uttered, drawing closer to Jeremiah, almost forcing him to look him in the eye.  „And I don’t really mind, just so you know. It’s just all.. kinda confusing“, he stammered. 

What he didn’t expect was Jeremiah, at first slowly turning his gaze towards him, lashing out a second time, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. When his chest touched Jeremiah’s, he noticed that the man was shaking like a leaf.  He seemed to be a real mess today.

„Hey, hey, maybe we should sit down first? Have a drink and talk about what happened today? You know that I’m your friend, Jeremiah, you can tell me everything“, the billionaire suggested and the shaking ceased a little. 

They sat down, both now with another glass of whiskey, closer than they would usually sit. 

When Bruce put his hand on Jeremiah’s knee, the other man seemingly flinched but didn’t move away. The flush on Jeremiah’s neck only seemed to spread further.

They sat in awkward silence for a bit until Bruce opened his mouth to speak again, but Jeremiah cut him off.

„I ... I haven’t really slept last night.. Jerome’s still haunting me in his sleep sometimes and yesterday was really bad. Also I got into a fight with Ecco this morning and I’m still a bit mad at her, so please excuse my behavior this morning. I’m just.. not myself today“, he explained, leaving Bruce blankly staring back at him. 

He still didn’t dare ask for the reason they fought. Jeremiah was messed up enough already.

„Listen, you should get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow“, he told him, before he finally got up to leave. Jeremiah didn’t react, until Bruce was standing in front of the bunker door, turning his head to nod Jeremiah goodbye.

Then, the redhead was on his feet again.

Bruce could only hear the sound of shattering glass and felt himself getting spun around by his shoulders. Before he could blink, he found himself pressed against the bunker door, the cold metal digging into his back.

Jeremiah’s lips were on his already, more urgent and demanding than before and this time, Bruce didn't hesitate before his arms around the other boy and kissing back.

He felt Jeremiah’s tongue on his bottom lip and when he parted his lips a little, the kiss grew deeper, wetter and more frantic. When their tongues touched, the engineer let out a needy whine, fisted his hand in Bruce’s dark locks and pulled. 

Bruce, surprised how much he liked the whole thing - kissing Jeremiah and stuff, who could've ever thought of that - moaned softly and his hips twitched in a way he didn’t quite expect. The redhead was kissing him like his life depended on it, the kisses growing sloppier with each second. When their crotches met halfway, Bruce could feel how hard Jeremiah was underneath his dress slacks. He latched himself on the other man’s neck, biting at his jaw, which provoked a deliberately low moan from the redhead and grinding himself onto him, desperate to get a little bit of friction.

He’d be embarrassed how he sounded if he wasn’t so turned on. 

Also, Jeremiah seemed to be as far gone as he was, anyway.

A knock on the bunker door startled them and the trance-like state of mind they found themselves in came to an abrupt end.

They broke the kiss, panting, sweaty and with swollen mouths and found themselves staring back at each other.

Bruce was still trying to process what had just happened.

Had he really just made out with Jeremiah Valeska?

Another knock - louder this time - and Ecco’s voice seeped through the door, sounding as calm and controlled as always: „Boss, there’s someone who wants to speak to you.“


	2. An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah's head is a pretty dark place.
> 
> It had always been this way and it will always be.
> 
> Jeremiah knows, but as long as nobody else does, it's fine - isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't been able to write much lately cause I had to pick up some extra shifts at work due to the pandemic.
> 
> But, still, here's a little interlude to show what's going on inside of Jeremiah's head, enjoy!

Jim Gordon was the last person Jeremiah wanted to see right now.  
Also it annoyed him that Ecco seemed to be delighted by the fact that she was interrupting something.

She’d been behaving really odd since Bruce came around - Jeremiah had never really seen her like that. He never expected her to be the jealous type, keeping track of every step Bruce made and referring to him as the „sponsor boy“ when they spoke of him. Of course, in his presence, she called him „Mr Wayne“, but with a pretty cold undertone.

The more Jeremiah thought about it, the less it made sense to him: He’d never given Ecco any indication that their relationship was in any way romantic. They’d been partners, yes, she was his assistant, his confidante and his friend. She’d been loyal to him when others weren’t, she’d been the only person he could trust for years.

They met when he just graduated from St. Ignatius, struggling to get by, trying to live a safe life (which meant having to stay in the underground) while also trying to achieve his career dreams, which seemed to be an almost impossible combination during that time. He’d have to be present in meetings to present his projects from time to time but the dark cloud of Jerome’s presence always seemed to linger over him, blocking his sight, making it hard for him to breathe in the outside world.

He’d always feared that Jerome might be just around the corner, exactly like it had been a couple of weeks ago, when he showed up in his maze and threatened to first drive him mad and to kill him afterwards. Both of his threats still hadn’t become reality, but a small nagging voice in Jeremiah’s brain, which had been present since the beginning of time - even before he even left Jerome, Lila and the circus behind - had reminded him that maybe, only maybe it hadn’t become reality _yet_.

Jeremiah found himself waking up in cold sweat more times than he could count, always facing his psychopathic twin brother coming back to take him to his grave in his dreams - where he belonged, - „ _come on baby brother, we shared a womb, we shared a bed and we will share a grave, that’s the way it was destined for us_ “ - and it ends always the same, with Jeremiah finding himself sitting up in his bed, screaming like he could still feel the cold barrel of the gun Jerome held to his head that day on his temple.

Sometimes, his cries would wake up Ecco and she would come rushing to him, assuring him that everything’s fine, she'd give him a dry shirt and, a couple of times now, even close her arms around him, cradling him back to sleep like a small child. She’d always been there and she would always be there for him, her calm voice shushing him and whispering that he would be alright, that Jerome’s dead and gone. Her hands were always incredibly soft and her arms were much stronger than you’d expect for such a tiny woman.

She’d been his rock, his consultant, his friend.  
He knew he couldn’t ever replace her, they’d always be friends - but why was she all of a sudden behaving like someone wanted to steal him away from her?

From the second that he’d first met Bruce Wayne, he’d been mesmerized by the handsome billionaire boy. He’d heard of him, of course, before, read about him in magazines - which had depicted him rather as an out-of-control-brat lately - and when he’d met him in person, the boy had surpassed all his expectations. He was well-spoken, polite, intelligent and generous, aside from the fact, that he had really, really gorgeous features. Not only this, but he also seemed to be genuinely interested in his work, in his opinion, in _him_.

Jeremiah was used to the fact that people were interested in his work and his projects, because yes, without flattering himself, they were good, like really, really good, he was an intelligent guy, had been from early childhood on.  
But interested in him himself, in _Jeremiah Valeska_ , with his nervous rambling and nerdy attire, his glasses and suits and his overall looks still resembling Gotham’s most feared psychopath?  
Nobody ever was - aside from Ecco, but Ecco doesn’t count.

The young engineer still couldn’t believe his luck in not only having found Bruce, but also in somehow having gotten Bruce into that make out session that just had happened. He’d thought himself to have been overly bold to kiss him in the first place - he’d had to gather some liquid courage first - but having the billionaire boy respond so eagerly was way more than he could’ve imagined. Not that he hadn’t imagine _something_ happening between them - he did, more than he’d ever admit to himself or anyone. He’d imagined touching, kissing, feeling Bruce every other night when he couldn’t sleep, not wanting to get another sleeping pill from Ecco again, not wanting to worry her any more than she already was.

It was a nice distraction, though. Jerome’s constant presence in his restless mind was overlapped with longing thoughts, dark locks and brown eyes filling his mind, telling him „ _you have a brilliant mind, Mr Valeska_ “.

Sometimes, the Bruce in his mind told him other things, things that awakened something else, something darker, deeply locked in his mind.

He sometimes had thoughts like that, but he always had managed to push them aside, to drown them before they reached their full bloom.

He was aware that Jerome was, after all, still his twin. Their mind was almost identical, they’d shared the same thoughts, the same rotten, perverted, sick urges.

_Deep down, they were the same._

Jim Gordon had looked down on Jeremiah since the day they met.  
Or at least, Jeremiah thought that way. He never really believed in his innocence, always throwing skeptical glances and asking more and more intriguing questions.

When he showed up that day, as serious and frowning as ever, standing straight as a soldier next to Ecco. Bruce and Jeremiah had just broken apart, still panting and sweating and looking like something must’ve happened between them.


	3. Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Gordon has some bad news for Jeremiah, Ecco's jealousy is showing and Bruce is switching to full-on-protective-boyfriend-mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo folks, I am SO SORRY for being on hiatus for so long.
> 
> BUT I finally managed to continue the story and I promise there will be smut soooooon!

Bruce was still half hard, dazed with want when they had to break the kiss due to the urgent knocking on the bunker door. However, this faded pretty quickly when he realized that Jim Gordon was standing there, frowning and serious as ever. 

„Bruce, I didn’t expect finding you here“, the detective uttered, but his posture seemed to tell otherwise, like he’d definitely been expecting to find him here. 

„We’ve been working a lot together“, Bruce lamely explained and next to Gordon, he could watch Ecco’s expression turning sour again. 

Jeremiah was still red as a tomato, sweat plastered to his forehead, struggling to get a single syllable out. The younger boy almost felt sorry for the poor introverted engineer, figuring that he hadn’t been caught a lot during activities like that - also because he didn’t engage in activities like that before. 

Which was a shame, really, cause the boy was _pretty_ , Bruce thought.

„Okay Mr Valeska, I think you remember that your brother had been working together with Scarecrow to create a modified version of laughing gas - a toxin that literally drives people insane. They hijacked some laboratories to produce ungodly amounts of it, but most of it has been found and secured, they’ll destroy it soon. He’d planned to use it to drive the whole city mad. Luckily, Scarecrow is a pretty neat worker, so he made lists of every ounce of the toxin they produced.  
So it seems, we’re almost done with the search - just a little amount is missing. One dosage, to be certain.“, Gordon told them.

Jeremiah’s bottom lip quivered. Every time they mentioned Jerome’s name, he seemed to crumble inside. 

„Like I told you, one single dosage is missing. And it’s clear who the target of this dosage is meant to be - his beloved brother. Have you noticed any changes in your boss’s behavior lately, Miss Ecco?“, the police captain inquired, throwing Ecco a questioning glance.

She frowned. „What do you mean by that? I told you that he’s just one of Jerome’s victims, just like the others.“

Jeremiah shook his head. „Captain Gordon, I’m sorry but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t receive anything, I - I just“ -

„But he’s been behaving differently for sure lately“, Ecco interrupted him. 

For a second, everyone fell silent. Jeremiah seemed startled that Ecco had managed to undermine him like that, Bruce wondered what exactly she could’ve meant and Ecco looked like she couldn’t quite believe that she’d just said that herself.

„What do you mean by different?“, Gordon inquired. He sounded a bit annoyed, like this thing was taking up way too much time, like he had something better to do with his time anyway.  
Maybe the Dr. Thompkins thing was still bothering him more than he let people know.

Ecco didn’t dare say anything anymore, seemingly regretting the sudden outburst and Bruce decided to take over: „I don’t think there’s anything different with him, we’ve just been working a lot and maybe he’s not getting that much sleep during the past week. But I assure you, Jim, there’s nothing wrong with him. Believe me, I’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.“

„Yeah maybe too much time“, Ecco muttered under her breath, quiet enough that only Bruce could hear.

„Okay so - just so you know, there’s a single dosage of Jerome’s toxin missing and we all know that it's been part of his plan to get you to ingest it sooner or later, Mr Valeska. I’d just advise you to be careful, it could be hidden anywhere, in presents, in the mail, in any drink or food. I don’t want another lunatic running around here soon.“  
Jeremiah visibly swallowed, he didn’t like to be reminded that he was somewhat related to a mass murderer, which Bruce could fully understand.

„Of course, Captain Gordon. I’ll let you know if I encounter anything suspicious“, he answered politely and Gordon turned towards the door. 

„Thank you, Mr Valeska. I really hope that I can trust you, unlike your brother“, he said finally, already on his way out, lead by a still muted Ecco.

Bruce couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jeremiah, even in his distressed state, the other boy seemed - _beautiful_.

He looked as innocent as someone could look, with his thick rimmed glasses, his tousled red hair and his wide green eyes, now green again (even though he really, really liked the consuming black of his dilated pupils as well - but that was another story). 

Jeremiah must’ve noticed him staring, because he started to fidget and turn his gaze towards the door. 

„Bruce, I’m scared“, he told him, voice quivering and fiddling with the doorknob. He didn’t look at Bruce at all. 

„I’ve dreamt that Jerome would come for me, even after his death, and apparently he will. It’s just a matter of time“, Jeremiah explained.

Bruce, suddenly feeling a sudden rush of bravery, put his hand on Jeremiah’s back and started to pat him lightly, then altering to soothing circling rubbing motions on the other boy’s shoulder blades. The redhead seemed to calm down a little, but Bruce could feel the way his shoulders were still shaking. 

„Should I - should I stay with you tonight? I mean, I don’t think that he’ll be able to reach you in here, but still.. you seem distressed“, Bruce whispered. He knew that he was walking on eggshells again, but it was still worth a try.

After a couple of nerve-whacking seconds (Bruce didn’t feel brave at all anymore, in all honesty), Jeremiah slowly nodded and turned his head.

„I would love that, Bruce.“


	4. A Taste Of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby blue pajama pants, shaking hands and curious mouths and a lot of relieved sexual tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo - are you ready for some much-needed smut? 
> 
> I know you are.
> 
> x
> 
> And again, I am so sorry for not continuing this story for such a long time.
> 
> There will be more, I promise! 
> 
> But first ... let the boys act on their heavily built up sexual tension, won't we?

The pillows were softer than Bruce had imagined them to be.

He didn’t really know why, but he never could picture Jeremiah in a real bed, couldn’t imagine him lying between soft pillows, wrapped under big blankets, sleeping softly.  
The boy always looked so _neat_ , so _composed_ , never missing his tie, always in a suit rather than in jeans or normal clothes, let alone in sweatpants or pajamas.

He doubted that Jeremiah even _owned_ sweatpants. 

It was hard to picture him in any other environment than his workplace (mainly because rarely anybody ever got to see him in another environment), hard to picture him without his usual almost-robotic, mechanic alertness, the thick-rimmed glasses on his face, his hair neatly combed and slicked back with gel. 

So, much to Bruce’s surprise, Jeremiah not only seemed to have a domestic side to him, a side nobody ever got to see, he supposed, but he also owned _pajamas_. 

Bruce couldn't really believe his own eyes as the young engineer emerged from the bathroom, now wearing _baby blue pajamas_ with white stripes on them and buttons which were (not to Bruce's surprise, really) completely done up. 

The blue garment looked so cozy, so soft that Bruce almost wanted to reach out a hand to touch it. Jeremiah’s red hair stood in a stark contrast to the soft blue and looked even more rumpled than before. He nervously had kept touching it throughout the whole day and obviously hadn’t bothered with fixing it before going to bed. 

Also, Bruce remembered, maybe he himself was a bit responsible for his messy hair, he had been pulling on it during their make-out session earlier - the thought alone made his dick twitch in his borrowed pajama pants - which were, greyish-brown, Bruce was a bit thankful for that, baby-blue didn’t really suit him). 

The messy hair and the pajamas suited Jeremiah in a kinda adorable way, he really had to admit. He’d almost caught himself staring when he heard the other boy clearing his throat.

„Uhm, the thing is.. I don’t really have a guest bed, but I guess I could sleep in my office, if you wanna sleep alone. Just if you hear me shouting or anything, don’t worry, that might be my nightmares. I - I uhm, I’ve been get lots of them lately. Just… just don’t worry. I’ll be fine“, Jeremiah stammered, his glance shifting to his bare feet again after having made eye contact with Bruce for a total of two seconds. 

The raven-haired boy frowned. „Do you really think I’d let you sleep in your office? Nah, I could like, sleep on the floor, I’ll just get some blankets and a mattress on the floor, since your bed seems to have two of them. I mean, if you’re scared to share the bed with me - because I“, he coughed and gathered some more strength, „I don’t really mind. Sharing the bed. With you. I mean“, he explained and couldn’t look at Jeremiah either.

The air was suddenly thick between them and Bruce felt like crawling out of his skin again, for the second time today already. The room seemed to have heated up to a thousand degrees and he didn’t dare look at Jeremiah, anticipating the seemingly inevitable rejection from the shy boy standing in the bedroom doorway, who looked like he’d rather bolt and run away than spend another minute with him here.

His answer, however, was not a rejection at all.

„You - you’d really think I’d let you sleep on the floor?“, Jeremiah shot back at him with a nervous chuckle, still not looking at Bruce at all. 

„I’ve never shared a bed with anyone but Jerome back when we were kids and with Ecco from time to time because she soothes me whenever I’m getting my nightmares.. I tend to trash around and hit everything around me whenever I get them and I don’t wanna hurt you.. but if you - if you insist.. I mean, I…“, he explained.

Bruce interrupted him, now sliding off the bed and getting on his feet to approach the other boy, who was still a fumbling, rambling mess standing in the doorway. 

„Or sleeping by my side could help you having not any nightmares at all? I mean, Ecco’s got a reason when she’s sleeping by your side, doesn’t she?“, he inquired, getting braver now.

„Yeah, you could be right“, Jeremiah admitted, now even fetching him a small smile. 

„See“, Bruce told him and took the other boy’s hands into his own. 

He didn’t know where this sudden bravery came from, but he was kinda proud of himself.  
He seemed to get mixed signals from Jeremiah all the time, but he had a low feeling in his gut that the redhead wasn’t a simple person to deal with overall, so his shyness might be just a projection of his insecurities and a product of him having lived in a bunker for years with not much human contact. He just needed a little _push_ into the right direction.

„You should stop thinking for a while. If you keep overthinking the whole thing again and again, you’re surely getting nightmares tonight“, he told him with a soothing voice. 

His gaze flicked up to the Jeremiah’s lips - the redhead kept licking them absently and suddenly, Bruce couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way his pink tongue kept darting out and swiping over the plush swell of his lower lip. 

„But - but it’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. All I can think about is Jerome and how he’ll come for me. It keeps me up all night and if I manage to sleep, I’ll dream of him. It’s all I think about and… well apart from another thing“, Jeremiah whispered and he sounded so damn desperate that Bruce struggled to keep himself from wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a big hug again.

The air seemed to heat up even more as Bruce pulled him closer instead, their noses almost touching. He could feel the other boy’s breath ghosting over his lips and his heart hammering away in his chest. Now or never.

„Apart from another thing? Apart from what?“, Bruce whispered back, almost inaudibly. „Tell me what you’ve been thinking about, ‚Miah“, he pushed on further, using the pet name like a charm.

Jeremiah closed his eyes and held his breath for a second.

_„You, Bruce. I can’t stop thinking about you.“_

Within a heartbeat, he was sliding his arms around Bruce’s neck, bringing their mouths together, parting his lips with his tongue and licking into his mouth like he already did earlier this day. 

Bruce couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but kiss Jeremiah back, tongues sliding together, greedily, dirtily and desperate. Jeremiah kept drinking him down with a longing coming from deep within, dripping of fear to be abandoned again, of pure desperation coming from being way too lonely for way too long and now getting something he’d been dreaming of ever since Bruce had stepped a foot into his office a couple of months ago. 

He kissed him like he’d die if he stopped.

It was a mess of clashing teeth, wrestling tongues, licking up onto the roof of each other’s mouth, biting at each other’s lips. 

He kissed him like he wanted to devour him, to claim him and never let him go.

Jeremiah’s sudden possessiveness knocked the breath straight out of Bruce’s lungs, but he’d never been so turned on in his _life_. 

Being a teenage boy, it didn’t take much to get him hard and with Jeremiah plunging on him like that, he’d gone from sporting a semi to full blown hard-on within a second. 

Bruce had never been kissed like that. It was the best kiss of his entire lifespan, so far.

They broke apart because they had to, running out of air and heavily panting and suddenly the spooked look in Jeremiah’s eyes was back again. 

It was not their first kiss, but he couldn’t seem to shake the lingering fear that Bruce was gonna reject him eventually, push him away or even hit him. 

So, Bruce decided that this unreasonable fear had to stop _right now_.

Also, he decided that the kiss can’t stop. It just can’t, there’s nothing he’d rather do than get those soft lips back on his again.

„‚Miah, oh my god“, he gasped, „I - I .. let me..“, apparently Bruce’s brain wasn’t able to produce proper speech anymore, but that didn’t seem to matter. When he reached for the hem of Jeremiah’s ridiculous baby blue pajama pants, Jeremiah was very eager to help him and pulled them down in one quick motion.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear and his cock sprung free, angry, dark and leaking already. It looked so strange yet so appealing and Bruce could feel his heart hammering through his throat.  
He’d never been this close to another man’s dick before and he had thought that he would’ve feel a little unsure what to do, at least, if not repulsed.

He’d been thinking about this though, sometimes, at night when Alfred was sound asleep and Bruce was not, trashing around in his overpriced linen sheets. They were his most private, most personal, _guiltilyhot_ fantasies that could get him off within mere _seconds_.

But those had been fantasies, safely stashed away in the depths of his mind - and he was only daring to think of them sheer out of desperation to get himself off and black out into a deep, dreamless sleep afterwards. He’d never allowed to think about them much, still considering himself as _mostly straight_ because hey, he was a teenage boy, and teenage boys get curious sometimes.

He’d also never really thought about any other men, but he’d been lying if he would claim that the body of his nameless partner from his fantasies wasn’t angular and lean than soft and rounded sometimes, featured milky-white pale skin with reddish hair instead of smooth golden skin, if he would claim that he wasn’t drowning in consuming but calm forest-tinted eyes (even though the pupils were blown so wide that they were rather black with green around them) sometimes instead of cat-like green ones that never really seemed to let him in.

So yes, maybe Bruce had thought about kissing a man, had imagined touching a male body and had fantasized about a very male person writhing under him, but he hadn’t really given much thought to trying it out in _real life_. Well, not until today.

Real life’s always different though and because of that he’d expected to be a little repulsed, at least.

Anyway, the repulsion never came, but his insides were still burning up with desire, hungry flames cursing through his blood vessels, consuming him entirely from the inside. 

His mouth was watering and as his eyes shifted to the other boy’s face again, searching for permission, for an invitation for _more_ , Jeremiah was already giving him a pleading look through hooded eyes. 

„Bruce, please, just.. just do something“, he demanded wantonly and, okay, how the hell could Bruce say no to that?

He dropped to his knees, leaned forward and sucked Jeremiah’s cock into his mouth. Jeremiah let out a quickly-stifled gasp, but it did nothing to cover up the way Bruce was moaning around him. He’d wanted to take it slow, he really did, but, oh god, he wanted to taste. He slid his tongue down the underside, curling back up to work around the head before he was sliding down further again, swirling his tongue, sucking him in deep and hard.

Above him, Jeremiah was making noises, _pretty noises_ , stifled gasps and tiny keening noises that turned into groans the longer Bruce kept sucking him.

„Fuck“, Jeremiah cried out and Bruce felt a weird sense of satisfaction that this was his undoing, he made this well-behaved and shy boy curse like that, „fuck, Bruce“. 

Bruce was getting braver now, pulling off a little and wrapping his hand around the base of Jeremiah’s dick, squeezing lightly, rubbing his fingertips in absent circles. These _noises_ were still tumbling out of Jeremiah’s pretty mouth, o-shaped and slack. 

He couldn’t be more perfect, Bruce thought, blinking up at him through thick black lashes. His other hand came up and squeezed the sensitive skin on the inside of Jeremiah’s thigh, feeling sweaty, soft cream-like skin, feeling the goosebumps all over him as he let his fingers skate up, closer to his perineum now. Jeremiah was _trembling_ now. 

Fuck, this was even better than he had pictured in his mind at night with his fist around his cock.

Bruce cupped Jeremiah’s balls in one hand and rubbed his thumb in slow, firm circles over them, provoking a startled cry from Jeremiah. His own cock was straining in his pajama pants, tenting up against the soft denim, begging for attention with every single pretty mewl that escaped the redhead’s lips. He chose to ignore it for now, turning Jeremiah into this shaking, begging mess was more fun than he had ever imagined. 

„Oh my god, please, please Bruce, don’t fucking _stop_ “, Jeremiah moaned, fisting his shaking hands in Bruce’s dark locks, obviously still trying to hold back.

Bruce pulled off Jeremiah’s cock with a _pop_ and grinned up at him. 

„You can pull my hair, you know. Don’t hold back“, he smirked and sucked him down again. 

Jeremiah didn’t need to be told twice and the first pull on his hair _stung_ , oh god, but his dick gave another desperate twitch in his pants, leaking pre-cum and Bruce increased the speed of his hand on Jeremiah’s cock, mouthing at the head and taking it all in, the scent of soap and clean washcloths mixed together with musk and sweat, the texture, the shape and the heady feeling of the weight of another man’s penis on his tongue. 

He was going to savor this, save it up for his spank-bank fantasies because he knew that he’d be jacking off to the memory of this until the end of the next _decade_ , at least.

It didn’t take long before Jeremiah’s gasps turned into chanting Bruce’s name, „Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, oh fuck, I’m - nghhhh“, digging his fingertips into Bruce’s scalp and breaking off with a grunt as he came, Bruce swallowing hungrily around him. 

The taste wasn’t exactly pleasant, flooding his mouth and running down at the corners from his mouth and Bruce thought that he must’ve looked _wrecked_ right now, downright _slutty_ and debauched, but he didn’t care, feeling a strange jolt of pride cursing through him that it was still _him_ , _he_ could make shy, precious, beautiful Jeremiah look like that, could make him fall apart like that. 

He kept sucking gently until Jeremiah’s cock went soft and let it slip out of his mouth. 

Jeremiah sank to the floor, boneless and knees shaking, his hands still clutching the sides of Bruce’s face, holding on to him like a lifeline.  
Bruce’s cock was still drilling a hole into his pajama pants, his head fuzzy with desire, and damn it, he was going to come in his pants like the teenager he was if Jeremiah wouldn’t do something about it now. 

Jeremiah was still breathing heavily, red-faced and unfocused as he crawled over to Bruce to catch his mouth with a deep, bruising kiss. Bruce’s brain barely registered that Jeremiah might have tasted himself on his tongue, which should've been gross but really _wasn't_ , it was just so hot and overwhelming and they were kissing again, open mouthed and dirty, tongues sliding against each other as Jeremiah’s hand came down to palm Bruce’s dick through his pajama pants.

He moaned _shamelessly_ into Jeremiah’s mouth as he stroked him through the denim, a wet patch already staining the grey cotton.

„Did.. did this really turn you on?“, Jeremiah whispered at him, barely audible, voice wrecked and gravelly, like he had been the one with a cock down his throat a minute ago.

It was unbelievable but also kind of endearing that Jeremiah still had the nerve to question him being into it after what he’d just done. No, Bruce wasn’t turned on, he was going to fucking _pass out_ from the lack of blood flow to his brain, not really able to function and to produce proper words or thoughts anymore. 

„What the - ah, what the fuck, hnnnngph, does it look like“, Bruce gasped back, catching Jeremiah’s plush lower lip in between his front teeth and pulling. 

The other boy released a strangled groan, hand squeezing around Bruce’s cock through the denim and holy shit, Bruce was going to _die_ if he didn’t get off soon.

„Do you - do you want me to do _that_ for you too?“, Jeremiah whispered cautiously, still all flushed cheeks and pupils still blown wide, hair sticking up in every direction imaginable. He was the prettiest thing Bruce had ever seen.

„Be-because I would want to, I mean, if you… if you let me“, he pressed on further and Bruce was going _insane_ from the way Jeremiah was mumbling out softly-spoken, shy words when he’d just come down Bruce’s throat. This boy was going to be the _death_ of him. 

He shoved down his pajama pants, releasing his cock and wrapping one hand around it to jerk himself off. 

Jeremiah simply stared down at it at first, with wide eyes, mouth still hanging open, lips shining and slick with both of their spit and, holy shit, _his own fucking come_ and Bruce feared for a second he was going to chicken out.

Bruce was going to say something, urge him on to _do something_ , but in his state, he couldn’t really do anything else besides stroke himself off hard and fast, Jeremiah’s eyes still trained on him with a raw hunger that led him racing closer to the edge with every pull of his own fingers.

Just as he thought he was going to come from this alone, Jeremiah let his face fall into Bruce’s lap, mouth first, tongue darting out to the head of his cock and wrapping his pretty lips around it.

With the first touch of his tongue touching the sensitive slit, Bruce _fucking fell apart_. 

Ha hadn’t come so hard in _months_ , crying out and clasping his other hand onto his mouth to stifle the noise, but it was too late. He was spurting out thick stripes of come onto Jeremiah’s tongue, his lips, his cheeks, onto his stupid pretty face and it may sound cliché as fuck, but he actually saw stars.

When he came back to his senses, the first thing he saw were Jeremiah’s wide eyes still staring at him adoringly. There was jizz all over his mouth, dripping down from his cheeks onto his chin, on to the cold hard tiles of the bunker floor.

Fuck a decade, he was going to jack off to this image _forever_.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beautiful redhead, who was now touching his own face with a shy curiosity, sweeping up some of his come with his finger and putting it into his mouth to get a taste.

Bruce’s cock gave an exhausted twitch and if he hadn’t just come, he’d be hard again.

Yes, this boy was going to be the death of him. 

„That.. that was _interesting_ “, Jeremiah began and Bruce snorted. 

„Interesting, huh“, he shot back. „there are a million adjectives in the world to describe“, he gave a little emphasizing wave into the direction of his crotch, „ _this_ , but yeah, you’re coming at me with _interesting_ “, he huffed. 

„I.. I.. didn’t you like it?“, Jeremiah asked, the shyness was full-on back again. 

„No“, Bruce rasped, „I didn’t. I fucking _loved_ it, you clueless idiot“, still not really getting how Jeremiah still could be shy after they’d just done _this_. Hell, his own brain was still in the process of coming back online and couldn’t properly process what had just happened, but he was overwhelmed with warmth all out of a sudden as he pulled Jeremiah into another kiss, a soft, loving, cautious one this time.

Jeremiah responded eagerly, as always, smiling into the kiss as Bruce felt him cup his face with both of his clammy hands. 

Again, it should've been gross, but it really wasn’t.

„So“, Jeremiah was grinning now, from side to side, eyes sparkling and wow, this was something Bruce could get used to seeing all the time.

„I mean, it’s not even that late, so.. do you.. would you maybe wanna do that again?“, was the question Bruce didn’t know he had needed and he didn’t need to be asked twice as he got up onto his feet, pulling Jeremiah with him towards the bed and pushing him onto the clean, fresh sheets.

Tomorrow could wait.


	5. Ec(c)hoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A love like yours is hard to find  
>  I gave you mine, but you're so blind  
> a heart hurts when it gets left behind  
> but nothing kills you like your mind_
> 
> _and I can't remember the way I was before  
>  the day you decided to show up at my door  
> the day when the rain really started to pour  
> and all I got now are these echoes _
> 
> x
> 
> Ecco's mind, as it turned out, is also a pretty dark place.
> 
> But exactly how dark her secrets really are is what we're gonna find out later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo, another late update - but I got some good news for you, I got _struck_ by inspiration lately (since Uni has started again lol), so I decided to turn this into a story that's a little longer than the originally planned 5 chapters.
> 
> This chapter is an attempt to get deeper into Ecco's mind because I think it's pretty sad that her character is just a simple side character in the series and we basically know _nothing_ about her. She's got potential to be such an interesting persona.
> 
> Enjoy!

There was no need for her to go and find out for herself what was going on in the room next to her bedroom, because she could _hear_ it.  
The logical part of her brain told her to just go out, leave the bunker for the night and ignore what was going on in her boss’ bunker, let them be whatever they were now and be happy for him.  
He deserved it, after all.  
Of all people she knew, Jeremiah deserved happiness the most.

The masochistic, unrealistic and delusional part of her brain, however, forced her to stay in her room, curled up in her bed with her back to the traitorous wall that did little to cover the noises coming from the room next to her. 

She wouldn’t cry, no, she had no reason to cry, after all.

She wouldn’t be _that_ girl. 

It had been clear from the beginning that they wouldn’t ever become a couple.  
She knew Jeremiah loved her, but he told her time and time again that he couldn’t love her the way she wanted him to love her, even if he tried, but that had been okay for her.  
Well, until now, she supposed.  
They’d been mostly alone, depending on each other ever since and Jeremiah Valeska had been the best friend she’d ever had, hell, he still was, he was the best, most generous and lovable man she’d ever met and losing him had always been her biggest fear.  
It was crystal clear that she couldn’t risk losing him through something stupid and unreasonable like forcing him to love her (even though she knew she couldn’t anyway). 

Muffled whispers, moans, whimpers, at first innocent and later not-so-innocent noises were tumbling through the not-so-thick bunker wall, right into Ecco’s ears.  
It wasn’t like she hadn’t known what Jeremiah would sound like, it just came in handy when you were living this close to each other for years. She’d heard things, caught him (just like he had caught her a couple of times) doing things that weren’t really meant for the eyes of another person, but this, _this_ was new. 

The ugly, selfish, greedy part of her brain (which sat right next to the masochistic, unrealistic and delusional part of her brain) had always told her that Jeremiah’s shyness would prevent her for having to endure an encounter like this. Well, it did. 

Until Bruce Wayne had come along.

Ecco sniffled and pressed her face into the soft pillows, forcing herself to close her eyes.

Forcing herself to drift off into a dreamless sleep, like she’d intended was almost unattainable, so she covered her ears with both her hands and tried to think about nothing. 

Thinking about nothing didn’t work either, like any sane person would know, but she didn’t allow her thoughts to press any further into the abyss than it had already had. 

A nagging voice creeped into her thoughts, at first very quietly, then getting louder and louder. She knew exactly who that voice belonged to, whispering silky-smooth words into her ear.

Words like poison, teeth-rottingly sweet, but as sharp as the snow-white incisors of its owner.

_„He caaaan’t see how pretty you are, oh what a shame. Well, frankly, I didn’t expect anything else from that big-headed idiot. Well, I can see that. You’re pretty, Ecco, darling. So, so pretty…“_

Ecco’s mind was racing now. 

These thoughts were even more taboo than her other thoughts, more forbidden than her usual daydreams about kissing and touching Jeremiah and doing other things couples do because these thoughts were memories. They had actually _happened_. And if Jeremiah ever found out that they had _happened_ , she’d be dead.

She remembered these sweet nothings like they’d been whispered to her yesterday, whispered though chapped, rough lips that didn’t taste like Jeremiah’s at all, even if they looked the same.

She’d seen those green eyes trained on her and she found herself desperately looking for the familiar warmth of Jeremiah’s green in it, but found nothing but a haunted forest, the slimy green of rotting wood, of mold creeping into decaying woods. 

Forests in which the nights were cold and unforgiving.

Forests that were long abandoned and nobody that stepped into them ever got out alive.

Forests that she found herself running into like she wanted to get lost, like she didn’t even want to get out alive. Maybe this shade of green would pull her in so deeply that she didn’t even want to get out alive anymore. Maybe it could teach her that getting lost was easy, almost too easy.

_„Shh, Ecco, don’t say anything. I know you want to. I can feel how much your heart is craving this, just a little more and you will...“_

She’d felt the roughened up fabric of his gloved finger on his lips, tracing them and slowly pushing inside. She’d let her lips fall open in a trance, still losing herself in dark green forests.

_"...you will agree. You will be mine, you'll see."_

Ecco snapped her eyes open, got out of bed and walked towards the cupboard where she’d stashed the sleeping pills she usually kept for Jeremiah, in case his sleeping troubles would get worse. Well, tonight, she’d be the one who would need them, who would blame her if she took one for herself? 

She popped up the bottle and took two pills at once. She swallowed them down dry, not even bothering with water. 

She knew they would be setting in in about half an hour, so she walked around in her room aimlessly, still trying hard to ignore the not-so-innocent sounds that were seeping through the walls like toxins. 

As she was pacing around, her gaze dropped down to the nightstand. 

Jeremiah never went through her stuff, even though he tended to be a bit paranoid. 

She felt oddly honored that his monthly panicked search for signs that Jerome (or potential weapons of Jerome) might be hiding somewhere never involved him turning her room inside out, because out of some weird reason, Jeremiah trusted her enough to always leave it out.

_Well, that’s his fault. He shouldn’t have trusted you, you deceitful bitch._

The nagging voice in her head was back and Ecco sighed. Why won’t the damn pills kick in already? She even took two, that should be increasing the speed of the process, shouldn’t it?

Her eyes were still fixed on the second drawer. 

She needed something else to focus on and convincing herself that she _deserved_ to hurt like that, she deserved to suffer for deceiving Jeremiah like that seemed like the only option right now. 

She didn’t deserve his love. 

Only pretty-perfect handsome, always morally white-like-snow teenagers like Bruce Wayne deserved Jeremiah, because Jeremiah was an angel himself. 

With shaking hands, she reached out and pulled open the second drawer. 

The tiny little bottle was still there, placed neatly between science books and scribbled notes, almost unremarkable. The purple liquid shimmered in the dark of the room, oozing out an almost eerie-looking glow. The black ribbon around it was still intact, the note tucked between the ribbon and the bottle it was still folded. 

She’d never bothered to read it. Until now.

Her unsteady fingers almost tore the note in two as she tried to rip it off the ribbon. 

She felt her blood rushing through her body, reaching her head, she could feel every heartbeat pulsating in her ears. 

Waterfalls were cursing through her veins, the noise drowning out almost everything, drowning out the sounds from next door, muting her thoughts. 

_The pills,_ she thought, _they must have started working._

The note only read two simple sentences.

_**I knew you would.** _

_**You’re mine after all, just like he is.** _

Ecco was struggling to breathe as her shaking hands were grabbing the bottle now. 

She didn’t even know why she was doing it, she only knew she had to get _closer._

She had to _see._

The world was blurring around her, the walls were shaking with every move as she popped open the bottle, to see what was in it. 

Purple, shimmery gas was flowing out of it and Ecco knew that this _had_ to be a trap, she knew she should close the bottle as fast as she could, she knew she definitely _shouldn’t_ inhale the gas but her body wasn’t cooperating. She felt herself staggering towards the bed, managing to drop down on it without hurting herself and still gripping the tiny bottle with trembling hands as she was slowly drifting off into her heavy, deeply anticipated sleep. 

It wasn’t dreamless, though.


	6. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted more smut, so you get more smut. 
> 
> And some fluffy happiness for you, the world's depressing enough right now.

The boy next to him didn’t stir much in his sleep, he just huffed and sniffled from time to time, but apart from that, he was almost entirely quiet.

His nose was buried into Bruce’s chest and he could feel his breath tickling his bare chest, but his breathing came in a steady, calm pace. Jeremiah’s hair was still tousled, now even more than before, it was sticking up in all directions, a reddish mess that seemed to attract Bruce’s fingers almost on its own and he couldn’t help running his fingers through the soft red curls again and again. 

Jeremiah’s skin was pale, almost unhealthily pale (okay, the guy didn’t leave his bunker _at all_ , so how was he supposed to get any sunlight at all) and freckles were scattered all over it, like a treasure map that lead to something beautiful. 

Bruce was pale himself, but Jeremiah’s skin against his was a still a contrast.

Also, Bruce thought, he didn’t look like Jerome at all, even without his glasses and sporting tousled hair, almost like his evil twin used to. Bruce would be lying if he claimed that he hadn’t been thinking about their similarities and differences before, hadn’t tried to compare the twins to each other in his head, but he couldn’t find much of a resemblance apart from the fact that the bone structure, his features were the same. 

Well, they were twins after all, but Jeremiah radiated a different kind of _softness_ , of vulnerability that he couldn’t _ever_ imagine on Jerome. 

Jerome’s whole exterior radiated _chaos_ and madness, you could feel the aggression bouncing off of him, born a predator, mouth forever ruined in a snarl, just like the way he died, fangs bared and claws wide open to tear his victims in two.

Jeremiah’s whole exterior was lacking those features. 

They were made of the same fabric, the same material, they had the same shape but were completely given different functions.

One was turned into a weapon, no, _he had to turn himself into a weapon_ , Bruce realized, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived as long as he had managed to do.

The other one was made for greater purposes. Jeremiah’s head was a miracle, able to create, able to think in visions and also able to act on them, to build those great things that his mind had created.

A mind that could perhaps save Gotham, that could save the whole city. 

Jeremiah’s whole exterior resembled more of a scared little flight animal, but maybe that was his way of protecting his mind from predators and invaders, from predators like his brother. 

Bruce absently wondered if Jeremiah could be turned into a weapon, too. He was made of the same fabric as his brother, after all, but if he would ever get turned into a weapon like Jerome, if he would ever go mad, Jeremiah would be way deadlier than his brother had ever been able to be.

But, he reminded himself, Jeremiah was sane after all, just a shy boy who also happened to be curled up next to him at the moment, his face still pressed onto his pectoral muscles.

The billionaire pushed those nagging thoughts aside, they did nothing but ruin his good mood and he didn’t want to wake up the sleeping boy in his arms. 

A noise from the room next to him startled him. It was a loud noise, a crash like somebody fell and the piercing sound of shattering glass crept into his ears and Bruce wondered what on earth Ecco (it had to be Ecco, nobody else was supposed to be here) had been doing next door. 

Bruce held his breath and listened harder for a few seconds, but no other noises were following. 

Maybe he had just imagined it and his mind was already playing tricks on him. 

The alarm clock on the nightstand read 3 AM. 

He hadn’t slept for more than 24 hours now, but he was still kind of wide awake. Too many thoughts were creeping into his head, most of them about Jeremiah and about what had just happened. 

Jeremiah sniffled in his sleep again and snuggled into him even more (and you know, Bruce actually was surprised that this was even possible). He was shifting around now, draping one leg above Bruce, so that he was kind of lying on top of the younger boy now. His lips were touching Bruce’s neck, unintentionally, of course, he was still asleep, so that they were touching the soft skin below Bruce’s chin. There were no kisses, no licking, just the soft, almost too-light press of the redhead’s plush lips against his pulse point, but Bruce’s heartbeat sped up either way.

Suddenly, he was also very, _very_ aware of the feeling of Jeremiah’s groin pressed against his left thigh, and oh. _Oh_. 

If Bruce thought, he’d been wide awake a minute ago, he was wrong. 

It was now that he was wide awake - especially one tiny part of him that wasn’t so tiny at all now.

Bruce draped his hands through Jeremiah’s hair, trying to maneuver his face more upwards to come closer to his own, but failed because the other boy was still sound asleep, just barely touching his neck, breathing against it and slowly driving Bruce insane.

His hard-on was still pressed against Bruce’s thigh and as much as he tried to get him to _move_ , preferably _against him_ he was also suddenly struck with guilt because he knew how little Jeremiah had been sleeping lately, and if he had, it hadn’t been as peaceful as it had been tonight. 

So, well. This was a bit of a dilemma. 

_„Mmm.. chocolate..all…always smell like chocolate, Bruce“_ , the lips against Bruce’s neck mumbled. At first, he thought that Jeremiah woke up by himself, but then it dawned on him that the young engineer had to be talking in his sleep.

 _„You.. you know, chocolate’s my favorite.. Bruce’s my favorite“_ , Jeremiah mumbled against Bruce’s throat and the redhead’s breath was tickling him now to the point that he had to press one hand against his crotch to get some relief, at least.

He couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face, though. He didn’t know why the hell Jeremiah would think that he smelled like chocolate, but it was still kind of adorable.

 _Jeremiah was fucking adorable_.

Bruce hadn’t really allowed to dwell further on the possibilities that came in handy of Jeremiah liking him back the way he had liked him all along, because it never really had been, you know, a _possibility_ , to begin with. He’d always thought that Jeremiah was just being nice and finally happy to have another friend, but even after he’d started behaving more like he was into him lately, Bruce had always assumed that Jeremiah would have been way too shy to ever act on his feelings.

Until tonight. And judging by his enthusiasm during their _bedtime activities_ tonight, Bruce had thought that maybe, maybe there was a tiny bit of hope that they might become .. _something_. 

Bruce pressed his face into Jeremiah’s mess of red hair and inhaled deeply. He wanted to know what Jeremiah smelled like.

He smelled amazing.

Bruce wanted to inhale it, get high on it, keep it inside him until he wouldn’t ever forget it.

He wouldn’t ever want to forget that warm feeling of home that crept into his heart whenever Jeremiah looked at him through those warm, green emeralds, shimmering like a soft silk dress, so precious that it only could be worn on Christmas. 

Surprised by his own thoughts, he pressed a kiss on Jeremiah’s scalp and the other boy started mumbling hushed words again.

_„Mmmm.. think…I…I think… Bruce….I love him.“_

The words were barely audible but Bruce’s heart stopped for a second, only to beat again in double speed after his brain had processed what had just come out of Jeremiah’s mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself anymore, pressing kisses to Jeremiah’s forehead, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, down to his lips, cupping his still sleeping face with both his hands and catching his still moving mouth in a heated kiss. 

He wanted to _drown_ in him.

Then, Jeremiah, still barely awake, started to move his hips against Bruce’s thigh and the billionaire couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

He reached out with the hand that had previously fisted his own cock and tried to get a grip on Jeremiah’s bulge and groped him through his pajama pants.

Jeremiah had put them on again after they’d gotten intimate together, he’d told him that he was still afraid to sleep naked because he used to look out to avoid being harassed by his mother’s lovers when he was still a child - Bruce’s blood had almost started boiling at that sudden confession and he was sure that this wasn’t the worst thing _by far_ that poor Jeremiah had to endure during his childhood days. Yuck.

However, tonight, the other boy moaned softly in his sleep and pressed his groin against Bruce’s palm, his mouth now slowly starting to leave open-mouthed kisses on Bruce’s neck. 

Yep, Bruce’s dick was very interested in the ongoing scenario and he couldn’t stop himself from framing the other boy’s chin with his hands and catching him in an engulfing kiss, his tongue probing at Jeremiah’s lips, asking for entrance. Bruce didn’t even care to play nice, he wanted him, here and he wanted Jeremiah’s _everything_.

Until Jeremiah pulled back, opened his eyes and downright _licked_ his neck.

The younger boy could only feel himself being flipped onto his back and found himself staring back into Jeremiah’s eyes, which weren’t the warm green emeralds he knew but almost entirely black, pupils blown impossibly wide, only a small ring of green framing them anymore.  
The redhead looked almost feral, a few strands of red hair hanging loosely in his face, lips parted slightly.

„Bruce, you have no idea what you do to me“, Jeremiah whispered at him, his voice quivering with anticipation and lust and something else Bruce couldn’t quite put a name on.

The young billionaire’s heart was hammering: too fast, too loud. Then, Jeremiah was touching him again and Bruce just let him, let Jeremiah’s clever hands take him up, take him higher, into the resonance of blood in his ears and the pulse in his chest, his cock. 

Clever lips were still probing at his jugular, which got replaced by a tongue very quickly, licking at one patch of skin again and again. Bruce tensed, expecting pain, but when it came, the bite was gentle, tentative, bruising but not breaking the flesh.  
Jeremiah had wrapped a hand around both their cocks, jerking them together now and Bruce could feel an explosive heat building between them with each stroke. 

He wasn’t going to last if the redhead would keep this up.

Bruce held his breath, thrusting hard into the other boy’s hand, the slick feel of skin on skin, of their cocks sliding together was intoxicating, blurring out everything else. 

„Please, oh god, do that again“, he urged the other boy on, begging him to bite again.

Jeremiah pulled back, looked at him with a strange glint in his eyes, and Bruce almost stopped breathing. He looked _dangerous_. 

Then he bit him again. Again. And Again. The bites weren’t sharp enough to penetrate, but the bruise forming on Bruce’s neck grew darker and deeper with each bite, each time washed and soothed with saliva and kisses until Jeremiah took a nip of skin and pulled his head back with a quick movement.

Bruce yelped as he felt the trickle of blood ease from the tiny wound, could feel Jeremiah’s tongue swiping over it again. He was on sensory overload, too much pain, so much pleasure at once and that alien, strange look in Jeremiah’s eyes before he had _bitten_ him was what sent him over the edge, setting him off into coming all over their stomaches, moaning helplessly and throwing his head back into the pillows. 

He wasn’t used to seeing Jeremiah like that, it was strange to see such a dangerous, feral look on the usually endearingly shy, sweet redhead. Nevertheless, it turned him on even more. 

He’d looked at Bruce like he wanted to eat him _alive_. 

x

His heart was still racing as Jeremiah was lying on his chest again, both sweaty and gross, the clock on the nightstand flashing almost 4 AM now. 

He was sure that the redhead could hear how fast his heart was beating as they were lying here, unable and unwilling to move, still trying to catch their breath. 

There was no place in the world that he’d rather be right now. Or forever.

„Bruce?“, Jeremiah whispered, almost inaudibly. 

„Was…was this okay? I - I don’t know what got into me, I really didn’t wanna hurt you, I promise“, he breathed into Bruce’s chest, unable to look him in the eye. 

Bruce reached out with one hand, cupped Jeremiah’s chin and looked him in the eye. They were back to being warm again, and back to being fully green. 

„Hey, it’s fine. I promise. I actually liked it“, he admitted sheepishly and felt himself turning slightly red. _Apparently Jeremiah’s blushing had to be contagious, great_. 

„Did.. did you mean that? I’ve heard you talking in your sleep“, Bruce began and felt Jeremiah tensing under him. 

„What did I say? Oh no, don’t tell me I’ve had nightmares again.. or did I say something embarrassing? Bruce, what..“, Jeremiah was rambling now, seemingly intrigued. 

„No“, Bruce whispered. „You.. you actually told me.. you told me you loved me.“

There, it was out now. He could feel his earlobes turning scarlet. 

A small smile formed on Jeremiah’s lips.

„Oh. Well…I… I guess that’s true.“

\- "You also said that I smell like chocolate", Bruce told him, smiling like an idiot. 

Jeremiah's breath tickled as he felt him chuckle and playfully sniffing the patch of skin the redhead had been resting his chin on. 

"Uhmm.. I'm afraid that might not be entirely true anymore, Bruce". 

x

They both fell into a dreamless, deep sleep, both incredibly exhausted - but also incredibly happy.

So incredibly happy that they didn’t even notice the noises coming from the room next door…


	7. I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of cold nights and forest fires, or should I rather be saying: _The beginning of the end?_

**_2 years ago_ **

She almost didn’t trust her own eyes as she passed the shortcut through the dark back alley she usually would’ve avoided, but today, she had to hurry. 

She had been walking back home to the bunker one freezing cold December evening after running errands for her and Jeremiah, but she’d been taking a little longer than anticipated when she’d passed all the pretty shop windows. She still needed Christmas presents to send back home and, most importantly, she still needed a gift for for Jeremiah.  
He usually would build something by himself for her every year, the brilliant mastermind he was, every Christmas a new creation, a small intelligent device designed only for her. 

She knew that he worried about her when she would stay outside a little longer than usual, especially now, with the _MANIAX_ running around, spreading chaos and destruction and turning the city into their own little playground of insanity and slaughter.

Especially with the leader of the _MANIAX_ being Jeremiah’s long feared psychopathic brother who had just broken out of Arkham. 

Jeremiah had always been fearing the day when his brother would come looking for him one day, to seek him out and kill him.

He hadn’t been sleeping much lately. The nightmares had increased and Ecco had found herself in his bed, soothing him and cradling him to sleep every other night.

A tiny, sick little part of her brain enjoyed the fact that he was depending on her more than ever since he had heard the news that his brother wasn’t locked up anymore, she’d be lying if she claimed that she wouldn’t enjoy the highly increased closeness and tender touches between them.

Today, she’d finally found a present for him, but she was running late already, it was almost 9 AM and she’d told Jeremiah she would be back by 7. 

So, of course, taking the shortcut had been pretty reasonable, even if the dirty back alley was very dimly lit, narrow and overall creepy.

Ecco wasn’t a timid person at all, she knew damn well that she was quite strong and that she knew her combat moves very well, so she could take down a robber easily if she wanted to.  
She’d been doing material arts for years now, mainly to protect Jeremiah and serve as some kind of a bodyguard for him, but also because she didn’t like to be perceived as weak.

When she was younger, her elder brothers always told her that because she was a girl, it was kind of natural that she was weaker and needed someone to protect her, especially in the „big city“ where she wanted to move, otherwise she would get raped, beaten or robbed. They also didn’t support her with her study plans, claiming that mathematics wasn’t a girls’ subject but that only made her work harder. 

The only one who told her that she could be anything she wanted to be, if she only worked hard enough, had been her mother. 

„ _They need to tell you stuff like that because they would feel weak if their little sister would outshine them, honey. And because they know you can_ “, she told her time and time again. 

Her mother lost her battle with cancer last January, but Ecco still went on fighting her own battles, inspired by her mother’s encouraging words. 

She could be anything, if she only worked hard enough. 

So, with all her combat knowledge and practice, Ecco usually wouldn’t worry about having to walk creepy back alleys, but today was kind of different.

Something was off, the air seemed to be frozen, she struggled to get it into her lungs. She couldn’t see much, most of the lightbulbs were broken and she couldn’t walk as fast as she wanted to because she had to look out not to slip and fall on the thin ice sheet that had built from the dirty puddles on the ground. 

She heard footsteps approaching behind her, walking faster than her, seemingly unaware of the ice on the ground. 

She gripped the presents harder, also trying to walk a little faster than before but failing to do so. 

The footsteps behind her came closer.

She decided to let the person pass her, she hated people walking behind her anyway. She stopped walking and tried to turn her head to get a look at who had been following her into this alley because most people would be too scared of taking the shortcut. It was an infamous place, infamous for bearing the high probability of getting robbed, stabbed, raped or murdered.

She knew it wasn’t likely, but she even thought of him being Jeremiah for a split second because the person standing behind her, having stopped now as well, looked completely alike him.

Well, minus the glasses, the neat hair and the clothing attire.

This carbon copy of the boy she loved looked wild, feral, a glint of insanity behind his eyes that she could even make out in the dimly lit alleyway. 

His hair was a little longer than Jeremiah’s, sticking up at the front and one single strand was hanging into his grinning face.

Their similarity was disturbing, it was almost like Jeremiah was grinning back at her, but the look in his eyes was so alien to her that she couldn’t ever imagine him looking like _that_.

He was wearing an Arkham prison uniform, undone at the front, allowing her to get a glimpse at his chest: he was a little bulkier than Jeremiah and there were scars scattered all over the place where Jeremiah’s body only showed milky pale freckled skin. 

The freezing cold didn’t seem to bother him at all, he wasn’t even shivering.

There was no doubt that it had to be him.

_Jerome._

„Well, well… a pretty lady like you shouldn’t be walking an alley like that in the dark - you never know what kinds of people you’ll meet here, baby“, he began with a quiet, lurking voice that sent shivers down her spine which she failed to pretend that they were cold-related. 

„Who - who are you?“, she inquired, even though she already knew the answer.

The _MANIAX_ leader grinned even wider (Ecco didn’t know that this was even possible) and showed a set of perfectly white, sharp clean teeth, staring at her like a predator eying his prey. It made her uneasy and she wished she hadn’t stopped walking.

„You know who I am, baby. But what’s way more interesting to me is - who are you? A brave lil’ lady, that’s for sure. Or are you just insane walking here at night? Are you insane, pretty? You know I like my women a lil’ crazy“, he snarled.

His voice was so unlike Jeremiah’s, dripping with venom while he was making fake sweet-talk, now approaching her again.

Almost on autopilot, Ecco found herself walking backwards, feeling something solid and cold against her back soon and numbly realized that she was kind of trapped. He’d crowded her into a house wall, an overflowing dumpster to her right and a big frozen puddle to her left. 

She dropped the Christmas presents almost instantly, her brain screaming at her to wake up from her trance, to defend herself and _run_ because she knew damn well from the news what this man was capable of - but her body wouldn’t cooperate, she was still paralyzed with fear. Her brain was playing the same three thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.

Did he know who she was and was he just playing around now? If yes, how the fuck did he find her? And most importantly: Did he know where _Jeremiah_ was?

He stopped walking towards her when he’d come so close that she could feel his breath tickling her face, green eyes calmly focused on her like a lion eying an anxious antelope. 

_Green_ , she thought, but _not Jeremiah’s green_. This green was different kind of green, like the dark green of a haunted forest with no way out, a horizontal abyss swallowing everyone who placed his foot on its moldy ground. Not Jeremiah’s calm, soothing green.

„What do you want?“, she asked him, focused on keeping her voice steady. After all, she could still blame the cold for her chattering teeth. 

Moldy green eyes met steady brown ones. She refused to give in.

„Ahh, now we’re talking.. hmm let’s see.. for starters, you could tell me your name, baby“, he suggested, sickly-sweet poison still dripping from every word coming from his lips.

 _Lips resembling Jeremiah’s far too well_ , her traitorous mind reminded her, adding _I wonder if they taste the same, too_ , and she immediately felt bile rising up to her throat. How the fuck could she even think stuff like that?

She tried breathing through her nose and forced herself to keep her composure.

„I think you know as well, who I am, _Jerome_ “, she spat at him, trying to put as much disgust into her words as she could, „otherwise, you wouldn’t have stalked me like the creeper you are“. 

Her words seemed to amuse him, the corners of his mouth rose higher, appearing almost like a grimace, almost clown-like now and something behind his eyes seemed to flash up dangerously.

„Well, you’re not only insane, you’re also a very clever girl, baby. It’s true, in fact I know that you got something to do with that bigot I once happened to mistake for a brother. I’m aware you’re pretty much his keeper, you keep him safe and be his little helper whenever he calls“, he explained and Ecco felt icy waterfalls running down her spine.

„I mean, I’ve heard people talking, here and there… people talk, you know how it is, baby…and that stupid little idiot hasn’t ever been able to live his life on his own before, so why would now be different? See, baby.. I was once like you. I was his keeper, his protector, I followed him around, admired his … _abilities_.. and look what I got in return“, he pressed on and simultaneously ripped open his prison gear a little more, baring even more of his scarred chest to her.

She forced herself not to look, but it was too late, he’d already noticed the small second her gaze dropped down curiously. 

His chuckle was lurking and mean, hyenas eying a small baby lion, faking approval and admiration, waiting for the other to loose control, waiting for one small second of inattention. 

„And people talk and they’ve been talking about you.. they’ve been talking about how you’ve been following a certain… _boy_ around, for a couple of years now already… so tell me, why? Why him? If you like him for his looks baby, we could be a far better match. We have more in common than you might think, so you might as well…share some _details_ with me, don’t you think, love?“

„I won’t tell you _shit_ , Jerome“, she hissed, dangerously close to completely losing her temper. What the fuck was that guy thinking?

„Even if you were the fucking last person on earth, I wouldn’t choose you. I’d rather choose death than to share anything with you, you idiot. You’re just a psychopathic moron, riding his wave of success, but you will go down with the rest of your stupid group of nutcases“.  
She was throwing insults at him like missiles, already mad at herself for letting herself become so emotional all of a sudden, but she just couldn’t _stop_.

„You may have the same looks, but you are the fucking mistake, Jerome. Fight me, try to beat me, or rape me or do whatever you like, I’m a big girl, I’m able to defend myself. But I won’t tell you a fucking _thing_ about him“, she growled, trying to lash out at him but somehow, he seemed to have expected it and caught her hands half-way. 

He didn’t try anything else, he just kept his big hands wrapped around her wrists. It wasn’t even a tight grip, but she knew she had to put up a fight if she wanted to get out of it.

„Ahhh“, he hissed, the manic grin still plastered across his face like a mask. „So tell me, what has he been telling you about me? Did he tell you how he wants me dead, what kind of _monster_ I am?“, he was shaking her wrists in his hands with every word.

„Tell me baby, do you believe everything he says? Because I know he can be convincing, that little fucker. Very, very convincing. So if you think _I’m_ the monster, you don’t fucking know him like I do. He’s far worse than I am, but at least I’m not trying to fucking hide it.“

Ecco's heart pounded in her chest like it planned on breaking out every second. 

She couldn’t believe it. There was no doubt that this man was really insane, could he even hear himself speak? 

"He didn't need to tell me, I only needed to watch the news to hear about the kind of stuff you do", she started, but he wouldn't let her continue.

„And,“ he interjected, „what were you saying about me wanting to rape you or beat you or anything? Believe me darling, I’m a _gentleman_. I might be from a rotten home, but even I got manners. I wouldn’t ever force myself on a pretty lil woman like you, where’s the fun in that if she doesn’t want it? But I think you will understand soon. You’ll _want_ to be with me.“  
Ecco looked at him incredulously. 

He dropped her hands, leaving her wrists feeling strangely cold all of a sudden.

„Why the fuck would I want that? Because you’re so charming, Jerome? Also, yes, he talks about you from time to time. He once even told me he misses you on rare occasions, which I don’t really understand at all.“

She didn’t plan on spilling that, but as soon as these words left her mouth, she could feel the air shift between them. Something warm flashed up behind his eyes, like the hopeful sight of a wood glade in between the darkness of a haunted forest. It appeared for a split second, then it disappeared again. His bottom lip, a little stretched from the horrible grin he was still wearing, quivered for a millisecond. 

Within the blink of an eye, it was gone, he regained composure as quickly as he lost it.

„Well, well… he misses me, huh“, he whispered in a saccharine voice. „Tell him, baby… that I miss him too… but he shouldn’t worry, we’ll be reunited soon. And you should really tell him, baby“, he added, „that I’m also really looking forward to being reunited with his sweet little assistant. You’re way too beautiful to be working for him.“

Before she could react, she felt soft, but icy lips plastered across hers, just a quick peck on the lips, but it made her feel like the air was knocked out of her lungs. 

Jerome’s lips were gone before she could even realize what happened, let alone before she could push him away or hit him again and she stumbled backwards but was already pressed into the wall. She tripped over her own feet, still shocked at her own failure to react appropriately and slipped on the ice beneath on the ground.

She felt herself hitting the ground, barely noticing Jerome getting away, disappearing again into the pitch black alleyway. 

.

Jeremiah had been dead worried that night when she showed up with a wet coat and a haunted look in her eyes, hugging her tighter than he ever had before.

She’d been turning around the entire way home, constantly afraid of Jerome following her again, of the red-haired psychopath still hiding somewhere to pounce on her again. 

He didn’t, though.

However, her lips still felt like they were on fire after the fifth glass of whiskey that night. 

Angry, consuming flames were tearing at her soft flesh, ripping them apart and spilling blood onto the carpet. 

A forest fire, about to mercilessly destroy calm green woods as the flames made their way through the undergrowth. Consuming flames telling a story that hasn’t been told yet, but she knew already that if she'll let it burn, the only thing left would be the ashes, grey reminders of destruction, covering Ecco’s conscience until there was nothing but guilty ghosts reminding her of what she’d done. 

A forest fire started by icy, but surprisingly soft lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!! 
> 
> Another Ecco chapter, I know it's kind of random but I really, really enjoy writing her and exploring her character further.
> 
> The chapter title is from Fall Out Boy. It was just so fitting, I just _had_ to pick it.


	8. Take A Bow For the Bad Decisions That We Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another teeny-tiny chapter in which Ecco might or might not be a little _tangled up_ in her feelings for a certain redhead and her fatal attraction to.. well, another redhead.

_**1 year and 11 months ago** _

She’d seen it on the news, the MANIAX had raided the police station.  
The video tape had been all over national television, dead cops lying around everywhere and, of course, Jerome’s grinning, overjoyed, blood-stained face way too close to the camera, introducing the MANIAX as themselves and shooting someone (probably one of his own people) mid-sentence.

She’d heard the rumors that Jerome had also not only killed his mother, but his father now too, recently. Jim Gordon had caught him in the act, but somehow hadn’t managed to arrest him.  
Seemingly, the cops were no fucking use nowadays in this city.

She’d figured that Jerome was still out there, looking for them most probably.

She’d also seen Jeremiah’s worried looks every day and night when she had to hold him, she’d listened to his cries and nightmares and soothed him as well as she could.

She’d known that it had to happen, _someday_ , because it was inevitable.  
All along she’d hoped that it wouldn’t be, but it was.

 _Black suits him well_ had been her first thought and she cursed herself for thinking that.  
He was wearing a black suit this time, his hair was a lot tidier than like it was when she’d last seen him and he wasn’t wearing that stupid wide grin he usually did. 

He just stood there and his lips had curved into a small smile as he was watching her carefully out of gleaming, feral eyes. 

It had gotten really late and she had payed her father a visit to make sure he was well, he wasn’t getting younger after all and her brothers weren’t looking after him most of the time.

She’d actually planned to stay the night, but she was a little worried about Jeremiah after what had just happened on the news, so she’d decided to head back home again.

It was well past midnight and she really should’ve known better.

„Hello, darling.“

A voice, that was so unmistakably _Jerome_ reached her ears, stretching the o to an obnoxious level.

„Where are you going that late at night? You know, there might be dangerous people out there“, he sing-songed, his lips curving up higher. He wasn’t fully grinning yet.

„Home“, she hissed, trying to get past him to get out of the narrow staircase to actually get the chance to, you know, _run_. 

He stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder, just a brush, but Ecco felt like she’d been burned. She wasn’t wearing her jacket yet, about to put it on as she had been rushing down the staircase. She would’ve had to run if she wanted to get to her train in time. 

She still had to run to be able to get it. 

„Nah, nah“, the redhead interrupted her. „If my sources spoke the truth, and I’m sure they did, because everyone’s honest with a knife to their throat, right“, he let out a childish, ugly sounding giggle, „then the correct address of your home is, let me check, right _here_ “.

Ecco internally panicked, so he _had_ been stalking her, but fortunately still hadn’t found out where Jeremiah’s bunker was.

She decided to let silence speak for itself and tried to continue to hurry down the stairs. 

Jerome maneuvered himself in front of her, blocking the way down. Did she really have to fight him in her that narrow stairwell of her childhood? 

„But“, he began speaking again, his voice way too cheerful for her likings, „as you might have noticed, I’m also a very smart boy. I haven’t seen a glimpse of my useless excuse for a brother tonight, and I’ve been following you for some time already. So I guessed that you might be going home to your sweet baby boy right now after you’ve visited your _family_ , am I right? Clever, clever girl, still using your old address to help him stay invisible, that little coward!“

„ _Get lost, Jerome_ “, she spat at him, hating that he’d figured it out. Also slightly panicking even more at the fact that he’d probably been stalking her the whole evening without her noticing.

„Aaah, you’re always so foxy. Why are you so _foxy_ , baby?“, he grinned, and _there_ it was. That shit-eating, psychopathic grin spreading widely over his beautiful features. 

„It’s getting late, baby and you’ll never know what kinds of people you’ll meet on the way. Let me walk you?“, he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows and Ecco _snapped_.

She lashed out at him, dropping her coat and threw herself at him.

„Don’t play dumb“, she snarled, trying to hit him, to kick at him, to get him to fight.

She’d expected him to fight back, to try to beat her up or worse, to try to kill her, but he did none such thing. 

Her fist connected with his jaw, sending his head flying back to the wall and she could see him stumbling back.

She trembled, balling her fists and still expected him to get back at her, or worse, burst out into that manic, bubbling laughter, but he just wiped his mouth and spat some blood onto the floor.

Then he was licking his lips and it shouldn’t have been _hot_ , it really shouldn’t, but the look he gave her was unmistakably _adoring_. 

„I think I just fucking fell in love, man, you can throw a _punch_ “, he whispered, looking up at her because he’d stumbled down a few stairs. 

„You wanna do it again?“

Ecco had been holding her breath, her heart hammering in her chest like crazy again and for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do.

She really didn’t. 

One thing had been her knowing that apparently, Jerome wouldn’t try to beat her up, to kill her or to even defend himself to her, but another thing was him giving her that look that she’d been searching for so long in Jeremiah’s eyes. 

It was kind of dark again in the staircase and if she pretended hard enough, it could’ve been Jeremiah’s eyes staring back at her, throwing her that kind of lustful _what the hell are you thinking, Ecco_ glance. 

She wasn’t wrong. He kept looking up at her like she was something to look at _in awe_. 

After what felt like an eternity, he sank to his knees, slowly, not taking his eyes off her.  
She was paralyzed as she could only watch him sneak closer to her, slowly putting his hands around her calves, oh so softly, a feather-light touch. She could still feel it ignite her whole body, she could feel her blood rushing up to her ears.  
She couldn’t move. 

_Maybe you didn’t want to move_ , but that’s a thought that wouldn’t help her sleep at night, so she pushed it away very quickly.

 _You could’ve stopped him_.

His hands moved upwards, horribly, teasingly slow, but way too fast for her brain to register what was going on, to comprehend that they weren’t fighting anymore.

„Tell me to stop and I will“, he said, his voice calm, deeper and void of any childish giggling. 

His eyes were darker than before, still relentlessly trained on her, but also shining with a hint of warmth she hadn’t seen before. 

„Tell me to stop“, he repeated and his hands were still creeping upwards, reaching around her upper thighs.

„What the hell do you want, Jerome“, she tried with a shaking voice, but it came out more like a statement than a question.

„I wouldn’t want anything you don’t want“, he rasped and his hands stopped where they were, idly caressing the denim of her pants right below her backside.

She just stared down at him, not sure how to respond, not really sure to breathe air into her lungs like a normal person anymore.

„It’s all about him, is it?“, she asked. „You’re doing this to persuade me to turn against him.“

The corners of his lips curved upwards again.

„Not all of it. I’d be lying if there wouldn’t be something in it for you too, baby“, he suggested in all earnest. She was looking for a trace of malice, for a hint that the was playing one of his evil mind games with her in his features, but they’d never looked more honest.

„We could pair up. Become Gotham’s Bonnie and Clyde. Take over the whole fucking city. Think about it, baby. You and me, we’re better than him. We’d be invincible.“

There were long, clever fingers moving to the buttons of her trousers, popping them open one by one. 

She didn’t move.

There were long, clever fingers moving to her core. They were resting right above her crotch, still upon the denim of her pants, but she could feel his fingers leaving a trail of electricity shooting upwards, through her entire body, pushing her heart off its track and out of its rhythm. 

She didn’t move.

„Tell me to stop“, he told her again, still looking up at her.

She didn’t.

His hands wrapped around her waistband, pulling down her pants slowly, but thoroughly until they were pooled around her ankles. 

She was watching herself like in a simulation, her bodily functions most likely on autopilot and she couldn’t help the way her blood was burning up inside her vessels. 

Through her haze of confusion and, she hated to admit it, her state of being disturbingly aroused, she barely noticed him coming closer and closer towards her crotch.

Then, she felt him pressing his lips against the front of her panties like a kiss, open mouthed, almost mockingly nipping at the damp cotton. 

Another electric jolt cursed through her and she felt a pull of excitement starting right at her center, spreading flames like a wildfire through her body. Mortified, she felt her panties dampen even more, felt that traitorous wetness soaking through the thin cotton and knew that she couldn’t do anything about it. 

She did the first thing that came to her mind, feeling like a caged animal and not being able think of any reasonable way out, and most of it all, while being mad at herself for allowing this to happen, allowing her to feel that way:

She slapped him right across the face.

He tumbled a little, seeming to be a bit taken aback, but he caught himself immediately. The smirk was back on his face within a second, but made no further move towards her. He just smirked up at her expectantly, rubbing his mauled cheek with one hand. 

„Changed your mind, huh?“, he probed. 

Ecco was torn, so so torn inside. She couldn’t deny that she felt a bizarre kind of attraction towards the manic psychopath, even if she hated her own guts for it, but still, she couldn’t. She _wanted_ him to go on, her core still tingling from anticipation. She hated herself for getting aroused, hated herself for not pushing him away earlier. Hated herself for _not even noticing him following her earlier_.

Hell, she could’ve prevented _this_ from happening. 

She knew he was dangerous, knew he would most probably try to manipulate her into giving him information about his twin, that this wasn’t serious. 

Also, she knew that he wasn’t the type to turn down a little fun, so if both things came in handy for him, well, _jackpot_. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind. 

_What if she just did the same?_

She knew it was crazy, but what if she pretended to team up with the nutcase to see what he was even about?

Maybe he’d tell her what he had planned, what he was planning to do to Jeremiah, and maybe this was her only chance to get Jeremiah out of this alive and to get rid of his unpredictable, murderous twin brother?

Maybe, if she played nice enough, they’d „team up“ and she would be always a step further than Jerome, she could make sure Jeremiah was safe.

 _And on top of that, maybe, you could get rid of that stupid unrequited crush you’ve been having on Jeremiah for years by finally getting some non-platonic affection from someone who happens to wear his damn face_ , she thought, immediately cringing and pushing them away. Maybe she got unnoticed brain damage back when she was still doing material arts classes, who the fuck knows. 

_What the hell, Ecco._

He was still looking up at her, expectantly, licking his lips.  
Fuck it.

She dropped down to his level, pulled him in and kissed him.

He seemed to have expected it somehow and responded eagerly, kissing her back hungrily and without hesitation. She opened up her lips, gasping as she felt his tongue touching hers and her breath mingled together. 

He slid up one hand to her face, shifting and forcing her to open her mouth wider. His other hand traced her neck, caressing the soft spot below her chin with his fingertips, causing her to shudder and to moan into his mouth. 

Shit, who would’ve known that acting out an evil plan could feel so good? 

Jerome suddenly pulled back, panting. His eyes were gleaming perilously, shining emerald green, a spark of something she couldn’t quite place. There was a smug look on his face she was still itching to punch off, but she decided against it for once.

His lips were looking raw and wet from the kissing and _it suited him brazenly well_ , she thought.

„That’s what I thought, apparently I’m irresistible after all“, he said, but there wasn’t any malice behind it. He even sounded a bit astonished - Ecco was genuinely surprised by that. 

„Shut the fuck up and finish what you started“, she hissed at him, just as out of breath as him.

A quiet laughter erupted from his throat and the need to punch him again kept increasing exponentially again. If he was going to tease around or even trick her, she’d kick his ass for real.

He shrugged, quirking one eyebrow up.

„ _Make me, dear_.“

Oh, how she fucking would.

With a snarl, she shoved him him back against the wall, his knees scraping loudly across the dirty, cold ground. He sat back onto his heels, gripping onto her knee pit as she was scrambling to her feet again.

She stumbled forward with shaking legs as his big hands pushed them apart, urging her to come closer until her crotch was hovering above his face again.

„Demanding, huh?“, he rasped, but it came out breathy and a little uncontrolled and Ecco felt a strange ping of pride over that. 

He pushed his face into her sex, mouthing at her through her panties again as she was noticing that her pants were still undone, fuck, she hadn’t bothered with pulling them up again while trying to regain her consciousness earlier.

She let out a strangled noise, pressing one hand to her mouth to muffle it before somebody would hear - they were at the bottom of the staircase, but it was still a public place and also, kind of insane to do this here. 

Jerome seemed to share her thoughts.

„Look at you baby. I knew you had it in you, letting Gotham’s worst menace have his way with you in a fucking _staircase_. I bet you’d even like the thought of somebody catching us, finding out about your _true nature_ , my precious Ecco“, he whispered against her, his breath tickling her through the thin cotton in a maddening way, it was _too much_ and _not enough_ and her panties were too soaked to deny it any further.

She hated the way he talked but she craved him in a way it really scared her. 

One clever finger pushed her panties aside and slowly traced along her slit, teasing, not yet pushing in. She was going to _kill_ him, she thought, though this time for different reasons than before.

She looked down at him to urge him on, make him _do more_ , though she wasn’t ready to beg, for now, at least, but as she looked down, she could see him palming his own crotch through his pants, hastily and desperate and the weird sense of pride that _she did that_ surged through her again.

„Then you should probably hurry the fuck up“, she hissed at him, her hands catching onto his red mess of hair, pulling his face towards her panties again.

He tried to laugh it off, like always, the way his breath was hitching audibly when she gave his hair a pull was giving him away.

„Oh fuck, you like this“, she stated. „Playing rough actually _turns you on!_ “

He let out a breathy giggle, pulling her panties aside so hard that she could hear the thin cotton tear.

She pulled his hair harder. „Careful, idiot!“

Actually she’d planned on insulting him further, but when she felt his tongue probing at her slit, she actively had to let go of his hair to stifle a moan, it just felt _so fucking good_. 

He licked up a stripe over her folds, slowly, making sure that she could feel it all, then did it again, over and over. 

Her left hand came down to his hair again, pulling him higher, pressing his face onto the spot where she needed him the most. The breathy giggles hadn’t stopped, tickling her clit every time.

He had one hand on the back of her thigh, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, _probably to steady himself_ , which was something that a tiny part of her brain that didn’t go offline right away had proudly noticed, the other one accompanying his busy mouth, running up and down her folds, not yet pushing in.

Ecco could only try to stay upright, her knees trembling and her back pressed against the cold wall as he licked into her, tongue driving right into the core of her as she kept clenching around him.

Idly, she wondered if he had ever done this before. She had a feeling that most nineteen-year-olds wouldn’t be as experienced as he seemed to be in this particular subject.  
Or he was just a natural talent and very, very eager to try it out, she mussed.  
Her thoughts wandered to an awkward, shy and inexperienced Jeremiah who told her about being a virgin himself and she immediately pushed them away to the back of her mind again.

 _You’re trying to get over your stupid crush here_ , her last halfway-functioning pair of braincells admonished. 

His fingers found her, two pressed inside without any resistance at all, then he was adding another one, tongue fluttering around them. 

The door upstairs opened with a bang. 

„Hey, is anybody down there? Hello?“

Fuck. Mrs Mason’s voice, her next-door neighbor from childhood days, was echoing into the dark staircase. 

Ecco immediately dropped down to her feet, trying to find a dark corner to avoid being seen if the curious old lady would decide to come down to check if everything’s alright. 

Jerome, however, did the opposite. He got onto his feet, straightened down his pants and wiped his mouth casually. 

He turned and started walking up the stairs, calling after the old lady.

„Oh, I’m sorry, M’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m the new janitor of this house and I’ve been told to check the heating in the basement. I am sorry if you’ve heard any noise, I know it’s late already.“

Ecco heard him saying something else, but it was quieter this time so she couldn’t make out what he was saying to her. Apparently something comforting, because she could hear the door leading into the apartment building close again upstairs. 

She also could hear the door leading to the street closing as she was still squatting at the bottom of the staircase of the house that she grew up in. Her panties were in shreds, her pants halfway undone and her heart was still beating like she’d just ran a marathon.

She begged the rest of her brain to come online again, to catch her breath again, but she sat there for another ten minutes before.

Jerome wasn’t there when she left the building.

Jerome wasn’t waiting for her at the train station.

He hadn’t been following her, nor left her any message. 

_He didn’t have to, he’s gonna find you anyway_ , her very helpful, traitorous brain, now being halfway-back-online again, reminded her. 

It was already too late now anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wanted to go on with Bruce and Jeremiah's plot but I haven't finished writing their chapter yet.
> 
> However, I wrote this one a couple of weeks ago, originally planned either to upload it later or to turn it into a bonus chapter, but it also kinda fits in here and since I haven't finished the originally planned chapter, I'll give you something new to read while you're waiting :) 
> 
> I hope you don't mind me exploring Ecco's character further and also going deeper into the mess she's getting herself in with the thing she's got going on with Jerome. 
> 
> I also hope you don't mind me writing straight smut, but I just _had to_ , with these two. 
> 
> It's also kind of a shame that there aren't many fics about this pairing, I think their dynamic would be really, really, interesting.
> 
> x
> 
> Title is by Bastille, I really need to get more creative with those smh

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are deeply required!! 
> 
> but please be gentle, this is my first story ever to publish and also English is not my first language :)
> 
> x
> 
> Title is from Mr Brightside by the Killers, but I think you might know that already.


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